Yet Another Visit to a Certain Fountain
by blazedveggies556
Summary: This is a fanfic request! :) It's mainly about four elderly woman who stumble across a bottle of pills. Each pill allows the person to become ten years younger. Wondering how this turns out? Click the title to find out more! :D This has a teensy bit of Spanish in it, but overall, its in English. I'm not sure if I chose the right genres for it, but hopefully I did.
1. Chapter 1

_You unlock this door with the key of imagination. Beyond it is another dimension: a dimension of sound, a dimension of sight, a dimension of mind. You're moving into a land of both shadow and substance, of things and ideas; you've just crossed over into the_ _Twilight Zone._

Time. One of the abstractions of the universe. Once thought to be as constant as a river flowing straight through reality, conforming that vegetation of space as it passes through. But the mystery recoils rather than unravels as time seems to go more hand in hand with the cosmic unknown than as its own entity. Time. So could it be taken in bunches, could it be taken in slow drips from that fragile faucet that is life? Can it be prolonged with years held in the hand, simply a single dose away? Dr. Douglass Thadean, colleague of Dr. Raymond Gordon, pondered upon these questions even after Dr. Gordon had retired experimentation because of the mishap with his brother. His manipulation of the fabric of the universe not only draws him to the familiar yet mysterious place between dimensions, but his actions and desires will also draw in four unsuspecting women along with him, this story's main victims of fate. Their decisions are what lead them into the Twilight Zone.

The gears _whined_ and _sneered_ in a pill factory in Mexico, just as the gears grinded in Dr. Thadean's secretive mind. He had not told the workers his motives on why he only wanted a small bottle of pills made with a powder he brought, but he felt that information did not need to be given. He had money. After all, he was a wealthy man at the top of the economic ladder. Twenty five dollars and fifty cents an hour in American currency given to each worker in this small group was mere pocket change, but it seemed sufficient enough to assuage any doubts the workers might have. He surveyed his surroundings. It was a small factory. More like a shack in his mind. An abandoned shack. The gears were rusted, the roof that housed the underdeveloped machinery looked as though it would collapse at any moment. A twinge of fear ebbed at Thadean's mind, but he shook it off casually. _No matter_ , he thought. _I am only using this abandoned place to make these pills and then I am on my way to becoming a wealthy tycoon._ Of course, he would have to change his identification. Stealing the serum was a risky move, but he felt as though it were being wasted. Such potential, wasted merely because one experiment did not go as planned. _Raymond's brother… Harvey? Hubert?... whatever his name, is alright, isn't he? Not dead, not severely disfigured, but alive. Just not exactly what we were hoping for_. The whole ordeal replayed in his mind.

 _When Raymond shut down the research when no cure seemed evident, I did not quit. The remaining serum was destroyed, but I–– being the clever man that I am–– "sympathized" with that fool and "promised" to shred the formulas. But I didn't. I recreated it. It took me a while to get it right, but I did it. Ten years back a pill. Perfect. Not too much, not too little. Just right. Increments in decades will most definitely entice the public. Of course, I could have perfected it more, but Raymond had to ruin everything when he found that the formula sheets were still intact. The little weasel. Snooping through my things…Why can't he see just how extraordinary this beauty is? We could have been exceedingly rich together! I know he was always a bit envious of his brother's wealth. This was his chance to outshine him. To outdo the whole world!... Well, it doesn't matter now. I had to flee here to this place to see my work actually pay off. I'm surprised there's even a factory here. Old and abandoned, but still a factory… Hmm._

Thoughts of the past, how he would continue to live his life, and just about everything in between filled his mind, his eyes glazed over a bit as he stared into some seemingly invisible portal in which to view these thoughts in reality. His left hand rested on his lower back while his right held his chin as he pondered the unknown. His brow furrowed and the last remnants of hair he had on his head wavered a bit as he teetered slightly on his heels, the environment sounds and details fading away from him as he gathered his thoughts.

[…]

The workers did not know what to make of the strange American, but they were grateful for the money and did not inquire of their temporary boss' motives. As far as he had told them, they believed that they were creating prototypes of a new medicine, but it was top secret, so the company Thadean represented decided to do their operations quietly in a forgotten place. It all seemed slightly suspicious, though, but maybe it was true. American society was different after all. They all had worked in the factory prior to it being shut down (the last corporation did not supply enough funds), so virtually the whole village was out of work. But today seemed like an amazing opportunity to help demolish the economic hardship they had faced for so long!

One girl, twenty two year old Xeveria Montoya, could not shake the feeling that something was not right. The man seemed generous, but something about him… something about his demeanor. She observed him quietly as the other workers continued with the pill making process. The man made strange faces as he just stared out at nothing. She could not help but be slightly curious. She made her way over to where he stood and asked, "Señor… hay algo mas?"

Thadean's eyes darted down at the four foot, ten inch girl, his thoughts instantly forgotten. He scowled. "Don't speak that gibberish to me! Talk normal! Use English!"

Xeveria's jaw tightened and her eyes slightly narrowed. _Normal?_ The man obviously did not have respect. It was not that she did not understand English, it was simply easier to speak in Spanish. But she complied with the demand and spoke in her best English. "I ask" she began, trying to still be as polite as possible to this man, "if you are all right".

"I don't have time for pleasantries!" Thadean snapped back. "Return to your work or you won't get paid!"

Xeveria was taken aback by the man's demeanor and hesitantly went back to packing the pills in the bottles. What else could she do? She was going to leave for America soon to live with an uncle in California. She had just enough money to get there, but she wanted to support herself on her own. That obviously required more money. An opportunity like this would not just pop up in front of her again, so she had to do as she was told. Just until the end of the day.


	2. Chapter 2

_Really? The_ audacity _of that girl to disrupt me while I'm in thought_ , he steamed. _Well, no matter. Seems that I have just enough bottles to get this business of mine going. Just a few more hours and I'll be set for fortune. Hm… how to transport them without being caught, though…_

But before Thadean could further elaborate on his thoughts, the front doors of the factory flew open as the Mexican police stormed and filed in. "Todos están bajo arresto por el uso no autorizado de este establecimiento y la producción de sustancias ilegales!"ordered the commanding officer

"What!? How was I discovered!?" Fear, panic, and confusion now laced the beads of sweat that emerged on Thadean's brow, replacing his confidence.

"I lead them here" answered a voice.

"… Raymond". Thadean straightened himself up to mask his dread. "…How are you?".

Raymond did not respond to him. "Señors," he began to say to the police, "gracias por su trabajo. Por favor, deme las botellas para que yo pueda disponer de ellos adecuadamente. Aprovechar el hombre de la abrigo marrón."

The police seized Thadean and began to haul the many boxes away to Raymond and some of the other research team that had come along with him to take back to the U.S and dispose of them properly.

"Oh, y ¿podrías quitar el dispositivo?" Raymond requested. The police who held on to Thadean ripped a small metal circle from the back of Thadean's brown coat.

"Ah, the tracking device research lab C-7 was working on. I should have known" Thadean's cool composure returned and a slight villainous grin appeared on his face. "A prototype that never seemed to fully work, but you saw its potential and used it anyway. It worked. Now why can't you see the high potential in something more significant? Something more life changing than a measly metal toy?"

"DON'T mistake high potential for high potency, Mr. Thadean!" Raymond didn't have much desire to talk to his estranged friend, but he felt that his ideas were so severely deluded, he had to be corrected. He did not use an overly excited voice, but he made sure his tone was stern and forceful. Thadean was slightly surprised, but he continued to converse with his former colleague. _Surely_ , Thadean thought, _he must see the possibilities_.

"Why the formalities Raymond? Trying to distance yourself from this work, when you had as much part of it as I did. And you certainly knew and still know its capabilities. Why else would you use the serum on your own brother?"

Raymond did not feel comfortable arguing about such a secretive topic in front of civilians, but all of them did not seem to understand a word of English. They all were being taken away, anyhow, so they most likely were not listening. Plus, the anger that welded inside him overruled his better judgement.

"I love my brother! He would have committed _suicide_ if I hadn't consented to his wishes. I was a fool to have done it, but I did it for him, and now regret the consequences. He has no recollection of his past life, he doesn't remember what he did, who he was… he doesn't remember who I am… by no means do I want to subject any other human being to the same fate, which was exactly my reason for shutting down the project and still is my reason for not wanting to start it back up again!"

"But that's just it Raymond. You quit right when we were close. Your brother _is_ younger, isn't he? It just wasn't quite right".

"Quite right!?" Raymond's anger bubbled over. "He is a little boy now, for Pete's sake! Growing up to be a different man because of this serum! And you plan to have the rest of the world be your guinea pig to fill your sick desire for wealth?!"

"You know this was not just my dream, it was yours as well. We both wanted the wealth. _I_ just had the courage to improve it, which is exactly what I did. I improved it! Anybody can turn back the dial ten years with just a pill. No injection, so it isn't as harmful as simply directing it to the bloodstream. Can't you see the logic?"

Raymond scrutinized the man standing before him with each arm held tight by a Mexican police officer. _Douglass was never really a malicious man. Stubborn, yes. Stingy, even more so. He always did use money to get out of tight spots. But he never acted like this before._ Now Thadean had a faintly crazed gleam in his eye, his face glowing as the dim lights from the factory reflected off the perspiration on his face, his usually neat hair now unkempt, as if this was not the same man Raymond had worked with. And Raymond knew he would not see the same Douglass Thadean again.

Raymond let out a heavy sigh. "Boy, do I feel sorry for you", was the only response he could give. He nodded at the two officers, and they began to drag Thadean away.

It became clear to Thadean that there was no way to win over Raymond. "So, what? You're just going to send me back to the U.S?" He smirked. "I can easily pay my own bail, Raymond. It won't be that hard".

"Oh, you won't be going back to the U.S. The Mexican government would rather have you stay here. I could have the state government fight it, but," Raymond shrugged, "that's too much effort I'm not willing to spend". He then looked hard at Thadean. "You can't pay your way out of this one".

Thadean did not have anything else to say. He only stared wide-eyed at Raymond. That flicker of confidence in his eyes now dissipated as he was hauled away, not to be seen or heard from again by his former colleague.

"All right!" Raymond called to the research team he had brought with him. "Let's hurry with loading this substance in the truck so we can go home as soon as possible. I'd like to see this stuff disposed of immediately".

He then turned to a few of the officers who were arresting the workers. "Por favor, asegúrese de que no se han tomado el medicamento con ellos". _All we can do is_ hope _that no one took it with them._

[…]

This was a devastating blow to the Mexican workers. How could their willingness to work be paid with such tragedy? There would be no way to explain that they were not trying to partake with this crime. They simply needed work. Many of the men and women were going to jail. The whole village would be ruined. Even with this inevitable future, there seemed no use in making matters worse. They solemnly complied with the police and were rounded up in trucks that would take them to jail.

Xeveria was furious. These were honest-working people. Many she knew her entire life, and they were being taken away without being heard. Their lives and the effects on their families not considered. But… what could she do? It seemed that the most realistic thing to do was to focus on gaining money for her own family. But how?

The pills. While she was in thought, she had overheard the whole conversation between the two Americans. It was a little tough to fully understand, but she had heard enough. Youth in a bottle. That could definitely be worth money. Now, Xeveria did not feel good about stealing. The growing guilt sat at the pit of her stomach. But it seemed like the only choice. As the Americans continued their conversation, she slipped behind the machinery and towards the back door and pocketed a bottle of pills. She was expecting to get caught, but her small stature allowed her to slip through unnoticed. She was never really quite happy about her size before, but she definitely was grateful for it that day. She gingerly closed the door and then bolted towards the village. She had to leave for America and she had to do it now.

 **All right! First time I've ever submitted a second chapter! So, I'm hoping to get to more of the story in the third chapter. I also hope you guys are liking the story. Don't be afraid to comment and/or leave a review. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Ethel glided down the street in her cheery floral dress, a polyester mosaic of pungent yellows, delicate purples, and flamboyant oranges. Her bright red heels _click clacked_ as her tight jet black curls of hair bounced with every stride. Without even talking to her, one could already _see_ her loud personality. And that was exactly how she wanted to be perceived. Loud. Just the life of the party. She was not at all a narcissist, but an optimist. If you did not live life to the fullest, you simply were not living life at all. That was her motto.

On her arm she carried a baby blue basket with a pink bow tied around the handle, muffins and sweet bread inside. She could not bake if her life depended on it, a constant reminder from neighbors and family every time she attempted a batch of cookies or a small cake, but it was all about the presentation. _Besides,_ she thought, _I'm sure Helen would appreciate some goodies, even though they are store-bought._

Her walk ended at the entrance gate of _Golden Dewlight Retirement Home_. "Here we are!" she sung aloud, to no one in particular, but she adored the attention of heads that would turn to the sound of her melodic voice.

"How do you do?" she would greet one person out in the front yard as she made her way, and she continued with her "Hello's" and "Good to see you too's" until she made it to the front door. Then she would stride inside and toward her good friend Harriet.

"Oh, excuse me, Señ- er- ma'am?" an unfamiliar voice called out. Ethel stopped and turned her head to the direction of the sound. "I am sorry to stop you, but you have to sign the "time back in" paper to let them know that you are back inside".

Ethel was confused. _The… "time back in"?…_ then her face fell. _I- I don't look…_ that _old… or… decrepit. I… obviously don't belong here. Heh… she's just new here, that's all. I'm sure… she tells_ all _the visitors that all the time, just to make sure… yes, that's it…_

She cleared away the small lump in her throat and brightened her disposition. "Oh, you're mistaken. I'm actually just a visitor. My name is Ethel Hapilin". She extended her hand to the assistant.

The assistant's face reddened a bit, but she smiled back and shook her hand with vigor. "I am very sorry about that. It is going to take me a while to, um, rec-…rec-, er-". With her left hand, she kept snapping her fingers as she thought hard for the elusive word.

"… Recognize?" Ethel offered.

"Yes! Recognize faces. Thank you." A sheepish grin appeared on the assistant's face. "My name is Zoe. Zoe Montoya. I am new here and just tend mostly to cleaning. Help wherever I can".

"Well Zoe, don't worry about a thing" Ethel began, "a simple mistake. No harm done. I'll just be on my way to see a friend of mine and give her this basket of goodies".

"Go right ahead! Sorry again for the trouble".

"No trouble. Good bye. Oh, or as your generation would say now, later!" Ethel beamed as she went upstairs to Harriet's room.

"Um, later", Zoe replied, unsure of what to make of the elderly woman, especially when Ethel had not answered her for nearly thirty seconds after she told her to sign back in, as if she might have been hurt by her misjudgment. She did not mean to imply that Ethel looked as though she should be in a retirement home. _Pero lo dije._ But she did not want to dwell on it. She had more pressing matters to attend to.


	4. Chapter 4

Ethel huffed a bit as she got to the top of the stairs, bending slightly over the banister. "There… always seems to be a few more steps… each visit". She straightened out and looked around. This was not her first time visiting Helen, but she always liked looking at the decorations in the hallway. The wallpaper was a nice neutral beige with occasional thick stripes of dark green, laces of white on each side of a stripe. A small floral pattern of blossoms scattered everywhere.

The layout of the rooms was interesting. If one were to look at it from a bird's eye view, it would look similar to a key, just without the ridges. A rectangle attached to the circle. The wooden banister was a u-shape in the center of the opening with the stairs spiraling down to the first floor. The doors that led to the rooms were six in a row along the circular section, with six more along the rectangle, separated into three on each side. There were two more stories above this floor with the exact same design, for those able to climb down a set of stairs, the first floor for those in wheelchairs.

Very quaint.

All the doors were open as everyone was downstairs enjoying a variety of activities.

Almost everyone.

Ethel went into the last door to the right side of the rectangle. The only door to be closed.

She gave it a few taps. "Helen! It's Ethel! I brought some nice goodies for you! I'm coming in!" she sung.

She opened the door to Helen, sitting in a rocking chair. Not moving, but simply sitting and looking out the window.

"Hello Helen! How are you feeling? Everything going fine, dear?" Ethel asked.

"…Well, I'm not dead" Helen remarked.

"Um…" Ethel began, trying to quickly salvage back some cheer. "Oh! Yes, like I was saying. I brought some snacks for you. Just for you!"

"Just place 'em on the nightstand…" Helen muttered.

Ethel did as she was instructed. The nightstand and lamp that rested on it were dusty, and nothing else besides the dust resided on the surface. In fact, much dust had collected on everything in the room. Though, there was not much to in the room anyway. A bed, some curtains, a vanity, a dresser, a chair, and sunlight pouring from the window. Just the basics. Helen had not brought much with her when moving in to the home those months ago.

"I'm surprised the caretakers haven't cleaned this up! You don't want to come down with some kind of disease, Helen".

"Don't like them coming into my room, so I told them to never come in here".

"Told or threatened?"

Helen shrugged. "Don't make a difference".

Ethel's eyes widened. "I'm surprised they even let you stay here and not put you––"

"What? In one of those psychiatric hospitals?" Helen turned in the rocking chair to face Ethel, her gray-blue eyes piercing through her. Ethel was taken aback by her friend's demeanor and her physique. Her short white hair, usually placed in a bun, was let loose to lie on her shoulders. She had a few more wrinkles along the creases of her eyes, accented by the dark brown dress she wore. Her face was scrawnier than the last visit.

Helen turned back to face the window. "I ain't a loon".

"But you can't continue being like this! You need to eat, socialize, enjoy these golden years!"

"What's so golden about it?" Helen retorted. "What kind of joy can I have being in this strange place, with strange people, covered in a strange… lemon odor, without…" she paused. "… Without…the people… I knew once? …Without the husband I knew…once?"

"Must we always have this conversation? I don't mean to sound callous, but it isn't healthy to dwell on one thing for too long. Let's talk about…" Ethel thought. "OH, there's a concert happening _this_ Saturday, only a couple days away! Not one of those boring concerts we were raised with, but something more with the times. We should go out to see it together!"

Helen sighed and once again turned to face Ethel, but this time, the anger that was in her eyes was replaced with pity, for herself… and Ethel.

"Ethel, have you taken a good, hard look at yourself lately? We. Are. Old. You are just a few years away from being in my position. You can't hide it, not with all the hair dye and wrinkle cream in the world. Now, _I don't mean to sound callous_ …" the sarcasm seethed through her voice, "… but us… being the way we are… can't do anything but just wait for the relief of death. I, for one, am tired of just being treated as just some generic old woman".

Ethel did not know how to respond. She could usually take these comments of Helen with great stride, but today, her comments were exceptionally bitter and hurtful and made her rethink the way she was living. _Is…life worth living when I'm already…this age?_

She tried to shake off the thought and just quietly went out into the hallway and only turned to shut the door, the hinges squeaking as she closed it.

 _I still love Helen dearly, but… her mean-spirit is really… growing with… age._

"Um, Ms. Hapilin?"

Ethel was startled by the voice that broke the silence.

"I could not help but overheard what you were saying".

 **Here it is! Hope you guys liked this chapter. :) And don't forget to review and leave a comment. :D**


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